“And then, you just wrap this around here.” An aging cooper instructed Wilhelm on the art of repairing a barrel. He had darker skin with a wrinkled bald head - a wrinkled everything, really, and his uniform had far more wear than most others he saw, weathered from the rigors of time. They sat unsurprisingly on barrels next to a rail looking over the sea while they worked repairing and building barrels from a stack of wood, metal, and other materials for said purpose. Apparently, barrels were a hot commodity when at sea, though Wilhelm was learning he had woefully little knowledge of anything to do with a ship or the ocean at large.

He awkwardly tried to mimic the man’s actions on his own, and to his own surprise seemed to succeed. He turned it over to the man for critique.

The older man gave him an old smile and looked over his handiwork.

“Not bad, for your first attempt. This is a perfectly serviceable barrel,” the man leaned in conspiratorially and jerked his head towards a group sparring on deck, “better than what most of them cobbled together on their first attempt, I’ll tell you.”

Wilhelm chuckled along and closed his eyes, feeling the sun on his face. He liked the fatherly old man – Po was his name, but most of the crew called him Old Po, for obvious reasons.

Creativity, Wilhelm was learning, was not the crew’s strong suit.

“How have you been finding life on the sea?” Old Po asked as he fiddled with Wilhelm’s barrel.

Wilhelm scratched at the back of his head and shrugged.

“It’s been…challenging. Every day I wake up, try a new task on the ship, fail miserably and go back to sleep. And then the next day Absalom beats me until I can barely walk during training – which I’m also awful at. It’s all a little demoralizing, though I’ve been constantly reassured I’ll get better. In between curses at how awful I am.”

Old Po listened patiently while he added the finishing touches and looked it over one last time.

“That’s life, isn’t it? Getting hurt physically, mentally, spiritually, day after day. It’s all pain, but each twinge makes you just a little bit better at withstanding it all. Unluckily for you, you’ve been dragged into a situation where your endurance against pain you’ve faced your whole life doesn’t apply. Now you need to build up your callouses all over again. I can’t imagine it’s pleasant, but it will get better. Pain and incremental improvement; that’s all life really is.”

Wilhelm looked thoughtfully at Po, who gave him a lopsided grin.

“They don’t call me Old Po for nothing, son. I better have found some wisdom over these years at sea.”

Wilhelm smiled back, “I’m glad you decided to share it. I’ve felt …trapped on the ship recently. Being surrounded by so much negative reinforcement through my failures isn’t good for me, I suspect. It all adds up, you know. Trying to find some normalcy, and I just end up failing at everything I do.”

Old Po nodded and opened his mouth to respond

“Wilhelm?” A forceful voice butted in. A woman with long blonde hair approached, wearing a uniform closer to Absalom’s in intricacy than the common blue one Wilhelm now wore.

He stood and saluted because it felt right but had no idea who this person was. Old Po did the same, so he assumed it was correct.

“That’s me. And you are?” he said.

“Calypso. Training time.” She turned around without another word, apparently expecting him to follow immediately. He remembered her name from Absalom on the list of people who would be training him, but her demeanor confused him greatly.

He looked to Old Po who shrugged and went back to fixing a barrel.

Calypso swung around after a few steps and gave him an impatient look.

“Well? Are you going to follow or am I going to beat you with one of those barrels Po’s fixing?”

He hurried to follow, if only to save Po’s barrels from further abuse.

She led him towards the deck – which he expected – but took a sharp turn down a staircase. He ducked within to follow her.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Below deck.” She responded without turning around.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve noticed that much, any chance you can elaborate?”

She opened the next door with far more force than necessary, eventually leading him into the lowest level of the ship, the cargo hold. It was a room Wilhelm spent little time in when exploring - mostly ducking his head within, seeing a bunch of crates, and leaving.

She led him to a small clearing in the sea of crates, threw a pair of mats on the ground, and gestured for him to sit with enough anger that it was palpable.

“Are you okay? You seem a little…tense.” He looked at the crack in the crate she created after aggressively leaning against it. He didn’t even know that was possible – she didn’t look like she had enough muscle nor fat on her to generate enough force.

“Do you ever stop talking?” she snapped.

He raised his hands in what he hoped was a still universal sign of apology.

“I-“

“So, the answer to that is no, then. You want to know why I’m upset? I don’t trust you.” She spat, forced herself up from the crate – which groaned in defiance – and started pacing back and forth, eyes glued on Wilhelm.

“Absalom wanted you in our crew. Wanted you in our crew more than most. At first, I thought it was just because you’re aspected – and an odd one at that. But no, it goes deeper, doesn’t it? You don’t talk right. You don’t walk right, you have no idea how to work on a ship, your knowledge of aspects is laughable and yet you’re bound to one, you don’t even stand right, and you magically appeared on our ship after the worst storm we’ve seen in a long time. At best, you’re a liability who will get us all killed. At worst, you’re playing us for fools and are biding your time until you can do something even worse. I’m still deciding which it is, and Absalom be damned I will do what I think is best for my Captain and my crew.” There was a solidity to her words that made Wilhelm think of the redwood trees he visited a few years back: unyielding, and immovable.

Wilhelm’s surroundings felt much different than they did a moment ago. Training in the cargo hold no longer seemed like an odd quirk, but a way of bringing him to the most isolating place on the ship. He glanced to the door they entered through, and the woman in the way. If he had to run, he didn’t like his chances. If he had to fight…

He looked at the large crack running through the crate she leaned on and suppressed a shiver.

“That is…understandable. I see why you would be concerned, and all of what you said is true. Well, not all of it – I’m not a sleeper agent biding my time. But a liability and an idiot? Definitely. This is the first time I’ve been on a ship for longer than two hours, and that was on a tour when I was six. Where I come from? There are no aspects. How do I have one, then?”

He looked her in the eyes and tried to project as much sincerity as he could.

“I have no idea. Do you understand how terrifying that is for me? I didn’t know aspects existed until a few days ago, and now I’ve got one roiling around inside me. Or my soul, which I also didn’t know was real until a few days ago.”

He took a step closer, too caught up in his speech to care that she had essentially threatened to kill him a moment ago.

“I seem suspicious to you? Good instincts. Things about me don’t add up? Correct. They don’t. You feel like I’m operating with some hidden agenda? Congratulations, you caught me. I am. On the surface I may seem like I’m trying to learn how to be an aspected and member of your crew, but lurking below? I’m struggling with the fact that I’m probably going to go literally insane from circumstances you wouldn’t believe if I told you. If you had told me your suspicions a day or two ago, I would have tried to alleviate them. Prove my loyalty, show that I’m not the secret agent you think I am.”

He slumped back and sat on the mat she laid out, arms on his knees as he stared sightlessly forward.

“Now, though? I don’t care. The only thing I’ve remotely succeeded at since being ripped from my bed and appearing on this ship is fixing a barrel, and you’ve just torn me from that to dump your anxieties and distrust on me. Are we done now? I was having a great conversation with Old Po before you butt in.”

Calypso scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Do you expect me to feel sympathy? As far as I’m concerned, admitting your suspicion doesn’t alleviate it.”

Wilhelm shook his head. “No, I don’t care about your sympathy. I’m simply explaining my point of view. And venting. Mostly venting. It’s been a rough couple of days, and your brick-wall of suspicion was the perfect target to bounce it off of.”

She scoffed. “Rough couple of days? These aren’t baseless accusations I’m making against you, and if you expect me to believe that story, you’ll have to come up with something better. I’ve seen you sparring with Absalom and working on the ship. Laughing and joking with the crew all the time, playing the role of the buffoon while you ask inane questions. If this was a rough couple of days for you, I’ll tell Absalom to drop you at the next port because you don’t have anything close to what it takes to be on our crew.”

Wilhelm rolled his head in circles while he groaned.

“Listen lady, I’m not sure how this will translate, but there’s this thing called a ‘façade.’ It’s where you-“

“I understand the concept. Don’t patronize me.”

Wilhelm shrugged. “You got me on that one. Regardless, I don’t need to say anything else. If you know what a façade is, that should explain it. Which do you think the crew would rather work with, an overly curious, odd aspected, or one so mentally and physically strained it’s a miracle he’s still holding his mind from snapping? I’m still hazy on aspected, but that seems like a bad quality to have in anyone, let alone someone with magic powers.”

He took in a deep breath to continue his rant but deflated. He moved his mat next to a crate and sat down, sitting up with his hands in his lap. He nodded to the mat opposite him that Calypso was still standing above.

“Listen. You don’t trust me because you know nothing about me, and I still have no idea what the fuck is going on. How about you sit down, and we take turns asking questions. You get to learn more about the mysterious omen of doom that appeared on your ship, and I learn about this whole aspected thing.” Wilhelm said.

“How do I know you’ll even give me straight answers?” she said suspiciously.

Wilhelm groaned. “Lady, would it kill you to drop the skepticism for a moment? If you keep looking at everything I saw with that lens, we’ll never get anywhere. I am extending the most olive-y olive branch that has ever olive’d. Take it, I am begging you. I could ask Absalom or anyone else on the crew these questions and get the same answers with less hostility. Presuming you let me live, I guess, but not operating under that assumption is more than a little depressing.”

She sat down but scowled disapprovingly. “There it is again. You don’t talk with the proper respect to your superiors. You talk about Absalom like he’s any other crew member, and only seem to salute when you notice others doing so. I’m shocked Absalom hasn’t slapped it down earlier, but he has a blind spot when it comes to you. That’s why I’m here. It’s my job to see where he is blind.”

“You’ve referred to him exclusively as ‘Absalom’ this entire time.” Wilhelm pointed out.

She waved a hand. “That’s different.”

“Why is that different?”

She looked at him blankly for a moment. “Because I’m the first mate.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, I knew that.”

“Did you not know who I was? At all? I thought you were just being an asshole when you asked who I was earlier.” she asked, baffled.

“I’ve only been on this ship for a few days!” He said defensively.

Calypso gave him a flat look.

He raised his hands. “Alright, fine. I’ve been negligent in learning the crew’s hierarchy and I haven’t given others the proper respect, I’ll accept that critique. In my defense, back home there wasn’t really anyone I needed to refer to with any sort of honorific. Everyone was on equal footing, more or less. Socially at least.”

She cocked her head. “And where is this ‘back home’ you keep referring to?”

“Ever heard of Green River, Wyoming?”

“If I’m supposed to be expressing some trust, you could at least refrain from spouting nonsense when confronted with a real question.”

“I was asked a real question and gave you a real answer. That’s where I’m from. It’s…far from here, I’ll admit.” He granted. “My turn: What is an aspect?”

She shook her head but answered thoroughly, clearly a practiced teacher, “An aspect is a living manifestation of a concept. Some walk and talk like humans, others are primal or bestial. Some are towering monstrosities that blot out the sky, others you might trip over walking down the street. As they roam, sometimes little bits of their existence break off and are left strewn in their wake. We call these ‘shards,’ and they are the thing that you accept into your soul which grants you powers in line with the aspect. Anywhere an aspect goes, you can expect to find scavengers in its wake searching for shards either to bind to, or to sell. Some more than others – there aren’t many willing to brave the wake of the aspect of death, for example, or would rather spend their time looking for a more valuable shard than one from the aspect of pinecones.”

Wilhelm nodded. “I thought it was something like that. What aspect are you bound to?”

“Not your turn to ask, is it?” she countered.

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. He really only intended that to get the conversation going.

“Alright, I see you’re a stickler for the rules. Shoot.”

“What aspect are you bound to?”

“Creative. Where’d you come up with that one? Nothing? Alright, fine. I am bound to the aspect of fire.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And how did that happen?”

He shrugged; a motion he was becoming used to these days. “No idea. It was cooking up my soul like a barbeque when Nate guided me through how to incorporate it, and now it’s here. I don’t even know how to use it. I expected to be shooting fire from my palms an hour afterwards, but it’s been nearly a week and I’m still nothing like Zuko.” He half-complained, half-explained.

She nodded, “That makes sense from what I’ve heard, and how slow Absalom has taken your training. Fire is more than a little dangerous, especially on a wooden vessel. Anything you do Jieming should be able to counteract - he’s bound to the aspect of the ocean, relatively common in the navy - but it never hurts to be cautious.”

“Thank you for the lesson, oh wise one. Now cough it up, I showed you yours, you show me mine. Wait.” He scratched the top of his head and scrunched his face. “I think I got that wrong.”

“Vulgar and disgusting. You fit right in. I’m bound to the aspect of sponges.” She paused as if waiting for a response of some kind, but Wilhelm offered none. She continued,

“My parents stumbled across a shard from the aspect one day and decided to keep it for me instead of selling it for whatever meager price they’d get. The aspect of sponge isn’t held in particularly high regards.” Her tone gradually changed from hard and factual to slightly wistful as she explained her parents’ story.

“They told me I’d be the one to raise the whole family up, being aspected and all. If you really don’t understand any of this, that’s a fairly common belief. Nearly all aspected are in high demand and getting just one in a family can raise the entire unit out of poverty. We weren’t so far down, but I still send money back every chance I get.”

Wilhelm smiled and nodded. “Admirable. I respect you slightly more, Mrs. Wants-to-cast-me-overboard. What kind of things does the sponge aspect do?”

“Still not your turn, but fine, your disregard for the rules is obvious. I absorb things. If you shot fire at me, I could absorb it within myself, and each thing I absorb gives me different traits. For example:” she gestured to the cracked crate from earlier. “I’m currently full of water. Water makes me far denser and heavier - except for when submerged, where I can swim far faster and hold my breath for longer. Too much of any causes various damage to myself, of course, but I can expel the element I have within me any time.” She pointed a finger upwards, and water shot up in a small geyser from the tip. She caught the falling stream like someone catching a coin, and the water was nowhere to be seen. Wilhelm raised his eyebrows and clapped politely.

“Huh. That’s the first bit of magic I’ve seen anyone perform since I’ve gotten here. I’m impressed. When do I learn how to use my aspect?”

“Whenever I deem you ready. Which could be never or could be right now. Absalom has left it up to me.” She said.

“Ah. I should probably be more respectful, then.”

“That’s the only smart thing I’ve heard you say in all your time on this ship.”

* * *

After an hour or more of Calypso grilling Wilhelm on his motives and background, she finally ceased her browbeating and let him scurry off, somewhat mollified by his responses.

“Training is done for today. Go see if you can make yourself useful.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

“That’s a difficult prospect and we both know it. So, did I pass? Are you convinced that I’m not trying to destroy or otherwise harm Absalom or the crew?” he asked from the doorway.

“Captain Absalom, to you. Convinced is a strong word. For the moment, I believe that you’re still a profoundly strange and mysterious individual who isn’t nearly as forthcoming as he seems. However, I do not believe you are malicious in your intentions.”

“Ooh,” he grinned, “Mysterious, huh? I think that’s the first time anyone has called me that.”

“Mysterious in the way that it’s a mystery how much you’ll vomit the morning after a heavy night of drinking.” She responded flatly.

Wilhelm frowned. “That’s worse. Does this mean you’ll teach me how to use my aspect?”

Despite his bluster, he was genuinely anxious about her response. After seeing only the small display she did…it proved that magic was real in this world. He knew that it logically was from the descriptions of others but seeing someone actually do magic in front of him was a whole other thing. It was cemented in his mind now, and he had the thing inside him necessary to performing it.

After a breath longer than Wilhelm was comfortable waiting, she gave a reluctant nod.

“Yes. Absalom has bugged me about signing off on training you enough, and he’ll force my hand once I tell him my findings. You begin tomorrow.”

“I’ll endeavor to be the best student possible, sir. Ma’am? Somehow neither seems respectful.”

“Sir is fine. Commands more respect than ma’am.”

“Kind of sexist, but you’re the boss.” Wilhelm shrugged as he turned towards the steps.

“Welcome to the navy.” She said as he walked away.